


Emergent

by Vhale



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6599530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhale/pseuds/Vhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sentinel AU starting after at about J-Cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Uh Oh

Emergence

Henry Pope sighed as we walked around the Taj Mahal. Michael really did do wonderful work, even on a fake building made of plaster and sticks. It pained the elder warden to put his young charge in solitary; despite the circumstances, Henry knew he truly was a good man. But officer misconduct was not something to which he could turn a blind eye, he needed answers.  
He turned his back on the palatial miniature to face his windows, looking over his dismal domain. Too many men had he seen chewed up by the system, only to be eaten alive or spat back out into the world, battered and broken. The old lawman sincerely hoped Michael would be one of the few survivors, though he knew the brilliant young man would have a hard time of it inside, especially once his brother was gone.   
Sighing, Henry gathered up his coat. It’s time to go home. Hopefully Scofield will be more talkative in the morning. As he opened the door, already nodding goodnight to his secretary, a piercing shriek resounded in his ears and mind. “What the hell?!” But even as he stopped, shocked and shaken, his instincts placed the sound. There wasn’t a person on the planet that wouldn’t recognize that primal cry. A sentinel had emerged, inside Fox River Penitentiary. “Oh no.”

 

Chapter 1

Already Warden Pope was barking orders. “Becky get Bellick on the horn and tell Dr Tancredi that I want her in my office NOW!”  
“Yessir!” Clearly spooked, her fingers flew across the phone as Henry made an about-face back into his office. No sooner had he thrown his jacket across a filing cabinet than his own phone was ringing.   
“Pope.” He snapped. “Sir, Bellick here.” He sighed and dropped into his chair. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what’s going on Brad.”  
“No sir, we heard it here too. It’s not one of the staff so I’ve got the men doing a cell by cell search, can’t miss an emergent sentinel.”  
Henry blew slowly through his mouth. “Good work Brad, but move quickly. It’s bad enough for a new sentinel when they come online, but to do it as an adult in prison? They’ll spike immediately, and there’s a very good reason sentinels are never put with regular prisoners. One man makes a wrong move, and we’ll have a feral on our hands.” Even through the phone line, Bellick’s horrified gasp was clear. “A feral sentinel in a prison? Sir, it’ll be a bloodbath.” Nodding, though the other man couldn’t see, Henry replied, “Exactly. Find that sentinel Brad, ASAP!”  
As he hung up, Dr Tancredi fairly flew in through his door. “Sir! I don’t understand, I personally review all prisoner records as part of the intake process, and none of them have shown guardian tendencies. There shouldn’t be a single sentinel or guide among them.”  
“I know Doctor, but the tests aren’t absolute, and records can be wrong. One thing is for sure, we have a sentinel emerging here. I’d like you to return to the infirmary and get anything ready that you may feel our new guardian might need. I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve found him.”  
Sara nodded tightly and quickly strode out. The door had scarcely shut when the Warden’s phone rang again. “Warden Pope.”  
“Sir? This is Blaine in Ad Seg. We’ve got’em.”

 

Henry Pope stopped in the dimly lit corridor of Solitary. “Open it up!” With a buzz and a clang, the metal door groaned open, light kept off in deference to the sensitive eyes they knew to be within. A warning snarl echoed out of the small room as Henry’s heart sank in his chest. “Michael.”  
All his life, like so many others, he had admired sentinels. They were majestic, powerful and so very mysterious. There was no envy now. Newly emerged, adrift without a guide to call his own, Michael Scofield had been reduced to little more than a snarling beast crouching in a dark prison cell. That sharp intellect was no longer present in the pin prick eyes that bored into Henry’s soul.  
“Oh Michael. I’m so sorry.” Apparently talking was a mistake.  
No sooner had the older man finished his sentence, the new sentinel was launching himself out of the cell. “Hold him men!” The Warden yelled, hoping casualties would be low.   
He needn’t have worried. Contrary to his expectations, the feral sentinel didn’t make an attempt for the corridor, rather he headed straight to the cell across from his.   
Henry stood aghast as he watched the other man throw himself against the thick door that stood between himself and his brother. Splashes of red began to decorate the old steel in tune to loud smacks of flesh against metal and desperate gasps of air as he tried to get through to his brother. Said brother wasn’t much better.  
“Michael! Michael stop! You’re hurting yourself!” His pleas fell on ironically deaf ears. Still Linc’s younger brother battered the door, getting more frantic by the second. Finally the jostling had some effect. The small flap door below the window popped open. Immediately the elder of the pair dropped and stuck his hands through. “Michael here! Down here!”  
Michael noticed and fell to his knees, entangling his hands with larger ones, pressing his face into them. Henry felt like a voyeur, spying on a private moment. He had to turn away as the strung out sentinel whimpered, shifting as close to the door and those disembodied hands as he could. How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?   
A feral, unbonded sentinel with a family member on death row. What a mess. “Ok boys, I’m pretty sure he’s not going anywhere.” The Warden began in a whisper, “Call in the Doctor and get the Guardian Affairs office on the line, we’re out of our depth here.” Men started to move out of the narrow hall, leaving room for the fair young doctor and her bundle. Henry greeted her with a nod. “Sara.”  
“Henry. I stopped by the emergency bonding suite and grabbed the supply kit. At the very least I imagine he’s in need of the sentinel friendly clothes. Prison standard garb is likely rubbing his skin raw at this point.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur at the end as she peaked over Henry’s shoulder.   
Michael was finally calming a bit. Still pressed tight to the door, clutching his brother’s hands, his frantic attempts to get through the door had ceased. Worryingly however, he’d started to shake. Sara said, “He can’t stay like this. Right now he’s on full alert, every sense at its max, searching for his guide, cataloguing possible threats, locked onto his brother. The strain on his body in this state is immense, let alone what the stress will do to his mind. We need to get him out of here and into a Quiet Room until Guardian Affairs can step in.”  
Henry sighed. “You’re right of course. I just hate to break them up like this.” A gentle hand guided Sara back toward the main door as his other gestured the guards forward. “Take it easy on him gentlemen, none of this is his fault and it would be far too easy to hurt him right now.”  
As the bulls moved past the warden towards the trembling sentinel he began to tense. With every step they took, his body drew more stiff until finally he dragged his head away from the comfort of his brother and unleashed a deep, hissing snarl. “Woah, woah boys wait.” Henry jumped in. “Michael?”  
Another warning growl rumbled through the narrow hall.  
“Okay. Michael I know you’re confused right now.”  
There was nothing for it. Michael moved into a defensive crouch, teeth bared even as his eyes squinted against the dim Ad Seg lights. Henry frowned, this was not going well. He made another attempt, “Mr Scofield. Relax, we’re trying to help.” He said with more authority.  
It didn’t do any good. This time, the new sentinel actually made an abortive charge towards the old warden who in turn threw his hands up in a placating gesture. “Ok! Ok!” backing away carefully. Realising that the perceived threat had passed, Michael slowly returned to his place at the door. He grabbed his brother’s hands again, but this time his eyes never left the men gathered at the other end of the hall.  
Sara came up behind Henry again. “Sir, we need to calm him down.” He sighed as he turned. “I’m aware of that Doctor, but he won’t let us anywhere near him.” She bit her lips. “Let’s try something else. He wants his brother, let him have that. Open the cell, let Michael get to Lincoln. Maybe that will calm him enough for him to regain his senses. Worst case scenario, his brother can keep him stable until Guardian Affairs can get someone here to help him.”   
He turned, contemplating. “That’s… a good idea.” Henry looked over her head. “Open it up!” Another buzz-clang and the door creeped open. The brother’s wasted not a moment. Both scrambled to get around the door and grab each other, the smaller brother engulfed by the larger. Nothing else seemed to exist for either of them. Lincoln whispered low in his brother’s ear, “Easy, easy little brother. I’ve got you Mike. Easy.” He took up a soft rocking motion, trying to gentle down his shaking brother, and Michael? Eyes squeezed tightly shut, curled around his big brother and shaking, he finally fell silent.   
Could anyone look on such a sight and not be affected? Henry inhaled deeply, forcing the emotion down. This is all so wrong. The Doctor moved forward. “Lincoln? I have some clothes here that will be easier on his skin. Can you get him into them?”  
Burrows looked up. “Yeah Doc. Chuck ‘em over. I’ll take care of him.” Sara complied, gently tossing the bundle next to their feet. “C’mon Michael, let’s get you sorted out.”


	2. Getting a Grip

Oh Michael. Why is it always you? That stupid quack psychiatrist, LLI my ass. Clearly Linc’s younger brother had been a sentinel all along. If only I’d noticed when he was a kid, things would be so different.

It wasn’t easy to reach down and grab the bundle of clothes with a full grown man all but in his lap, but Lincoln managed it. Looking under Michael’s collar he could see the beginnings of a rash on the edge of his tattooed neck. Wincing, the large man slowly dragged his precious cargo back into the dark of the cell. Michael was intensely private as a rule, getting him changed in front of an audience would only add insult to injury.

With the door partially shut between them and the bulls, Linc started gently removing his brother’s clothes. After each layer, Michael would ball up again, peel, repeat. Eventually, Lincoln managed to get his semi-cooperative charge into the sentinel friendly garb. Loose, soft and airy; the pants and tunic combo made his serious little brother look like an escapee from a California commune. It took some effort to stifle his laughter, despite the situation. Lincoln hadn’t seen anything so ridiculous in years, a few of the loonier inmates not withstanding.

“Ok Michael, that’s good. Bet it feels better.” Gently, trying not to irritate his sense of touch, Lincoln rubbed soothing circles on his brother’s back. One of the sentinel’s hands came up and clutched at Lincoln’s sweatshirt. “C’mon Mike. We just got you out of scratchy clothes.” The older brother’s giant hand coaxed Michael’s chin up to try and connect their eyes. “Michael? You in there?”

Squinting, blue-green eyes roved across Lincoln’s face, searching for something. “Michael, I know you can hear me, but can you talk?” Nothing. For all they were focussed, those eyes were still vacant. 

“Lincoln?” A female voice called from the hall, obviously Dr Tancredi. He made to go the door and spare Michael’s ears the shouting, but his little brother suddenly became a very heavy second skin. “Whoa, easy Michael. Settle down. It’s just the Doc.” Nothing doing, he wouldn’t budge. Heaving a deep sigh, Lincoln responded to her repeated calls. “We’re here Doc, I got him changed but Michael won’t let me move.”

The Warden chimed back in. “Lincoln, son, I hate to do this, but if you’ve got him calm enough we need to get him to a quiet room. Guardian Affairs are on their way, they’ll take good care of him.”

Meaning this was likely the last time Lincoln would ever see his baby brother. The G.A.O. would never let an online Sentinel back into a prison, especially for a family member’s execution. The instinct to protect a blood relative would be overwhelming; and with Michael would go any chance of Lincoln’s escape.

The oppressive air of the tiny cell weighed heavily on Linc. He sighed deeply, tears starting to burn. “Mike? Please Mike. I know you’re in there. Please come back. I… I can’t say goodbye not knowing if you’ll hear me or not.” He got a response alright.

Deep and defiant, a low growl rumbled out of Michael’s lean body. I’m not going anywhere.

“Warden? He’s calm but… he’s not firing on all cylinders. I don’t think he’ll go with you.”  
Lincoln waited on tenterhooks as low voices murmured outside the cell. I bet you can hear them clear as day Mikey. His breath shuddered as he held his sibling close. At least I know, with you as a Sentinel, LJ couldn’t be safer.   
With a whimper, Michael buried his face in Lincoln’s neck, as if he could sense his brother’s morose thoughts. At least you can’t do that, you’re a sentinel, not a guide. You’d think with all the time Lincoln had spent, waiting for other people’s decisions about his life, he would have gotten used to it by now. But I never will. It just about killed me waiting for the doctors to tell us about Mom, waiting for the social workers to decide if they were splitting us up, waiting on the jury… waiting, waiting to die. Now I’m waiting for them to take away the only thing I’ve got left. He wiped away his tears. I’m gonna miss you Mike, so much. 

“No.” Gutteral and low, Michael choked on the words. “No miss. Guide.”

Poleaxed, Lincoln stuttered. “Wha… What did you say?”

“My Guide. Mine.”

Holy! Really? “Sir! Sir! I need you and the Doc in here!”

A scramble later, the Pope’s face was cautiously peeking around the door. “Burrows?”

The death row inmate turned his brother towards them. “Say it again Michael. You have to say it. They need to witness it!”

Face screwed up by squint and snarl, the defensive sentinel turned to those that threatened to take away His Own. “My Guide. Linc.”

Take that Reynolds. None could separate a bonded Guardian Pair.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He can’t be.”

Spare me from idiot bureaucrats. Henry Pope made a concerted effort to reign in his temper and tried again. “He is Ma’am. I don’t know what to tell you. Lincoln Burrows is a Guide, at least according to his Sentinel. I know it’s rare for guardians to emerge this late, but they have, and I’ve got an entire prison that will testify to it.”

The longer the woman on the other end prattled on, the more Henry wanted to reach through the phone and shake her. Dr Tancredi, looked on with sympathy. She well knew the frustration of dealing with someone that refused to listen. “Look, Ms. Pierce. I know the statistics are against it, but all you have to do is send someone out here to confirm the status of my inmates. That’s not a lot to ask.”

“Very well Warden Pope. We’ll have an officer there within the day.”

“Thankyou.” He hung up, patience at an end. Looking at the brunette across from him he said, “Why haven’t I retired yet?”  
Sara chuckled lightly. “Because, underneath it all, you actually like it?”

He snorted.

Smiling, she continued. “On a lighter note, I’ve got the brothers settled in the bonding suite. They already seem to be doing better. Michael is more cognizant, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lincoln smile so much.”

“Not surprising,” the older man settled back in his chair. “He’s just gotten a stay of execution. Firstly, being a Guide almost guarantees that he can’t kill for any reason aside from defence of himself or His Own, and secondly, they can’t execute a bonded guide without killing the sentinel. Even if he isn’t pardoned, he’s certainly going to live.” 

That took a heavy weight off Henry’s shoulders. He’d never cared for capital punishment, but Lincoln had in particular never struck him as the sort that deserved it. The man was rash, and dangerous to be certain, but also thoughtful, polite and at his core kind. Only the overwhelming evidence had ever convinced Henry of his guilt, but now? It seemed he was innocent after all.

Also, the thought of having to keep Michael in prison for years after witnessing the death of his only brother, hadn’t sat well at all. Now, with those concerns lifted, the Warden could focus on taking care of these two special men. It was rare that one could offer protection to a Guardian pair, and Henry intended to make the most of it.

“Is there anything you need for them? Special food? Clothes? I know that Sentinels have certain needs, being sensitive to artificial chemicals.”

Sara looked up for a moment in thought. “Actually, since it’s so bland, standard prison food should be alright; but I’m having to do some research, I’ve never treated a Guardian before. Oh!” She snapped her fingers, refocussing on the man across from her. “Lincoln asked for any books we may have on Guide-craft. He’s obviously never had any training and wants to know what to do to help Michael.”

“Help him? Is Scofield alright?” Thick brows furrowed in concern.

“He’s resting right now. The emergence was far more traumatic than usual given the circumstances, and he hasn’t had any training either, so while Lincoln’s presence is helping, his senses are still all over the map. Actually, any books we can find for him about sentinels would be good too. At the very least it’ll give him something else to focus on.”

Henry nodded. “Consider it done. I have to say, unorthodox as it all is, he has to be happy too. He’s just single-handedly saved his brother’s life.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The persistent throbbing was finally starting to subside. Having your brain suddenly turn inside out and go from being in a quite dark room to a blinding cacophony would give anyone a migraine. The pain was ebbing away, slowly being replaced by the sharp reason that Michael was more accustomed to.

But it wasn’t really was it? There was something else there. Something lingering under the surface that had been more present in the cell. A knowing without knowing, without having facts to back up the certainty. It was weird. He’d heard of the primal instincts that sentinels possessed, but actually experiencing them was something else entirely.

For now though, they were content to simmer under his more familiar intellect. He’d take what he could get.   
Cautiously, he cracked one blue-green eye open. When no ice pick dove into his skull, he deemed it safe to look around.

Low lighting was provided by candles burning about the room, complimented with a recording of bird song and trees blowing in the wind that played softly in the background. Under him was the most comfortable mattress he had the pleasure to lay on in quite some time, though that wasn’t really saying much. The silky sheets smelt faintly of lavender but were almost completely overpowered by a scent he “knew” he’d always be able to follow, Linc.

There was that knowing again. That moment in the cell, muddied by confusion and pain as it was, he clearly recalled “knowing” that Linc was His Guide, that none other could fill that role. 

Said guide was currently sitting next to Michael’s head, staring into space. “Li..caff..Linc?” Michael heard the snap as his big brother’s head whipped around. “Mike?” A giant grin spread across his face. “Hey Michael, welcome back.” The large man shifted carefully to face his sentinel better. “How’re you feeling?” 

Michael smiled softly, “Better, tired, but better. Sorry to dump all this on you.”

Lincoln’s answering snort actually shook the bed. “Sorry? Michael, we’re scot free! I’m sorry it hurt you, and I’m sure it’s not gonna be easy to learn how to do the whole guardian thing, but we’re golden, we’re all but out!” He laid a hand over his brother’s forehead, thumb lightly rubbing the stubble, “Thankyou Michael, it’s not the way you planned, but… you saved me little brother. Thankyou.”

It actually hurt a little to break his bubble. “We’re not out of the woods yet Linc.” 

“Whadda yah mean?” Dark suspicion slammed down.

“After all the trouble they went to, setting you up, getting you sentenced to death, the assassins they sent, do you really think whoever’s behind all this is just going to let us walk away?” Michael exhaled as he worked to sit up against the wall, his brother’s strong hands offering solid support. “We’ll get out of here sure, but once we’re out, we’ve still got to disappear Linc; a detour to pick up LJ and Vee, but once we’ve got them, the original plan stands. The people behind this are powerful and I want to get as far away from them as we can.”

Linc sat quietly for a minute. He may not have Michael’s razor sharp mind, but he wasn’t dumb either, Lincoln just needed a moment of quiet to think things through sometimes. Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah I can see what you mean.” He huffed. “I really hate these people, whoever they are, and I’m not too thrilled with Dad either. He’s obviously in this up to his neck, and I’m not sure if he’s actually doing anything about it.”

That thought had crossed Michael’s mind too, but there were more immediate concerns. The first being his grumbling stomach. “Is there anything to eat around here?” A smile lit up his face as Lincoln scrambled to grab a food tray near the door.

“They brought this by a little while ago, but it’s all cold stuff anyway.” There was an assortment of raw veggies, buttered bread, a couple slices of cheese, and deli meat. Bland but balanced and more importantly, sentinel safe. Michael selected a few morsels to blunt his hunger before picking up the conversation again. “Speaking of LJ and Veronica, have you heard anything?”

The larger man winced. “Nah not yet.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Been a little busy.” Michael’s smile widened. “Oh? What’ve you been up to?” Linc played along. “Ohhh, yah know. Reading fan mail, counting cockroaches, getting a Sentinel. Typical famous inmate stuff.” The younger brother stifled a giggle as he leaned against the bulk of His Guide. “How ever do you keep up with it all?” 

“The Warden makes a great P.A.”

That did it. Both of them dissolved into relieved laughter. They may not be out of the woods yet, but they’d found a path through the trees.


End file.
